Isle of the Blessed
by faithlessducks
Summary: Upon her death, Morgana wills her  difficult granddaughter her journals documenting Morgana's over 50 year love affair with the boy from the Isle of the Blessed. Mergana and OC! mentions of all of the other characters. Merlin is owned by the BBC.
1. Chapter 1

Amelia's face is like staring into a mirror from fifty years ago- minus my saggy boobs and my face cracking like ancient porcelain. Reluctantly, a smile tugged at my mouth when I recognized a sneaky gleam in her emerald eyes that spark for life, always so troubling. Her beautiful face framed with wavy brown hair reminisces of a wild forest nymph… to remember those days when my life held unlimited opportunities.

"Guy, we have to go to the best club, not that one," Amelia crooned from the foyer.

Then, Amelia opened her mouth, and at that moment; I recognized her curse. That poor foolish soul was me; she was destined to relive my past. Guy was a striking bloke with rich chestnut hair, serious grey eyes, and a sexy smile-I'm not dead yet. Very soon; however, my eyes work perfectly. That boy could slide his slippers under my bed. My granddaughter couldn't piece together a jigsaw puzzle with four parts. It harmed my heart to overhear her conversation with him.

The heavy brocade drape felt coarse in my hand as I drew it away from my window; my tired eyes watched Amelia arguing with her young man. Guy was a darling handsome boy; my granddaughter was a foolish child. My lips curled when I remembered questioning and longing for more for in life. It seemed the world waited to be conquered by me, a foolish thought of my youth. The quick descent into the depths of despair when I realized that I lost the most important person in my life.

The curtain dropped from my hands as a tremor of pain troubled my back. My life was slowly fading away as the bouts of pain lasted longer and grew in frequency and intensity. Droopy heavy lids covered my weakened eyes.

Slowly, I limped to my closet; my arms struggle to reach the overhead shelf. Getting old was a bitch. Those boxes held my secrets. Thoughts and events tucked away into bittersweet memories. I stretched my frail arm towards the dusty ledger. I flinched when my arms quivered with throbbing pain.

"Lucy," I called. My hand resting on my chest as my heart contracted painfully.

I sat on my bed watching Lucy pull my treasure boxes from the closet. Lucy was so very special to me. Amelia's younger sister had a good head on her shoulders. She was sensible, and calm much like my older sister, Morgause. She didn't act on emotion, rather on reflective practice.

"Anything else, Granny?"

Lucy stared at me with deep hesitant brown eyes. Her fingers twisting around a lock of blonde hair. Lucy was the child of my peace, while Amelia was like Pandora, just waiting to muck up everything.

"No, just wake me for dinner, and leave an old woman with her memories."

Lucy nodded. She pressed her lips tightly together. It was hard for the child to fathom my pending death. When death comes; we can't ignore his call. He would soon arrive for a final visit. He arrived for several meetings before… I was able to reschedule. My body has grown too weak to fight the battle for a physical existence. Before that occurs, I need to set Amelia straight about life.

My eyes watered, and my nose twitched from the dust as it floated around the room. My fingers wrote his name on a thick covering of dust. The lid made a bouncing noise as I dropped it to the floor.

The pages felt rich under my hands; as I traced them gently. I smiled at my childish handwriting. The past waiting to jump at me. Heartbreak and regret fatefully etched across my journals spanning a lifetime-full of regret, joy, and endless possibilities.

Yes, she needed to know about… walking away from love.

Dearest Amelia,

I'm dead. My body is released and no longer has to live with pain. The time for tears is over, rejoice. I am free. Celebrate my amazing life. I need you to stop crying, and face my loss. Seriously, dry up the tears. No, I am not sprouting the old fashioned saying of a "stiff upper lip." My life was full of happiness and sadness and lots of contentment. It could have been better, if I had followed my heart. Over the last few months, my shrewd old eyes watched you with Guy. Guy is a very good man. He loves you desperately. Amelia, you are indifferent to his oblivious affection; history repeats with you. You are making my horrid mistakes. Your lack of wisdom mistakes his kindness for weakness, his unobtrusive dignity for boredom, his ability to wait as impassive.

How do I know anything? I was you my dear; I walked away from the love of my life because I wanted excitement, the thrill of the chase, and ended with feelings of nothingness and loss. Towards the end of my life, I was a dying old woman living in painful days of regret. So, I took the most influential entries of all of diary, and collected them for you. Ambrose is instructed to force you to read each entry. Yes, I said force. Should you decide not to listen to the diaries, you and the family will get nothing, not one quid. You aren't designed for poverty. Could you real make poor Lucy suffer? I can because I 'm dead. The entire estate will go to pigeon farmers in America. I was in a sound mind at the time of this will, and an insanity case will not be beneficial for the family. So, brew a pot of tea, and enjoying reading about my life.

Truly with love,

Gran


	2. The 50's

June 1st 1953

My parents, Uther and Igraine, departed for London to attend Queen Elizabeth II's coronation. Tomorrow, she formally becomes Queen of the United Kingdom and its Commonwealths of Nations. My parents left a few days ago, my father is required to be in attendance… he is the Duke of Camelot. For weeks, the servants rushed around the house like mice to prepare his formal royal attire for the event.

My mother watched him with a faraway expression on her beautiful pale face. I asked her why she appeared bored. She calmly responded that I would not understand because I am a child. She pressed my cold hands around her warm cheeks, her blue eyes full of love.

I love my mother's funny accent. She is from New England in the States. According to my father, her ancestors established a great new colony in the New World. She has the bluest blood in America. I'm quite scared for my mother. My blood is red. Do they feed children strange foods in America? Why is her blood blue?

Morgana

June 2nd, 1953

I sat paralyzed watching Queen Elizabeth II's coronation. She looked absolute beautiful. Her movements were graceful, elegant. She was the perfect Queen. Arthur wriggled until Nanny gave him a slap across his shoulders. She should not expect much from Arthur. He's only six years old.

Morgause calmly stated that we must live our lives like the Queen with nobility and honor. We must always be loyal to the family and country. I stared at Morgause. I wished to see what happened in Buckingham palace when they arrived back home. Did Prince Phillip take her into his arms? Did she plan a loud party with twinkling jewels and dancing? Was the food good? I cannot wait for my Mum to return home.

Morgana

June 3rd, 1953

My tenth birthday is quickly approaching. I wish for a horse, not a pony. I believe that I can convince Father to buy a chestnut mare with good breeding. Her parents must be champions. She must have good jumping lineage.

As I walked behind the barn, I notice a huge ring of flowers. I leaned down to pluck a bud. My feet lost their footing when Greta, our nanny grabbed me by my shoulder. She yelled in German. I couldn't understand one word.

Fear blazing in her brown eyes.

"No, Miss Morgana, you cannot touch those flowers… it's an elf ring; stay away from it. It has strange magic."

I stared at Greta in shock. Fairy magic. Does she honestly believe the Grimm tales and other folklore from Germany? I listened because she is brave and kind lady. She suffered greatly during the Great Wars.

"Yes," I promised.

Morgana

June 4th, 1953

My younger brother Arthur is the future Duke of Camelot. He spends hours practicing foreign languages with a private tutor. Father plans to send him to Eton in the fall. We shall return to our schools away from our country home. Mother must be lonely without her children. Huge tears hung in her eyes last year when we departed for school.

Arthur has a friend named Cenred; he believes that he is a great king of a faraway land. He convinced Arthur to join him on a great adventure into the woods. We did not realize that Arthur was missing until Nanny called us for tea. Her huge brown eyes grew large with fear as she rushed into the dining room. Morgause trailed after her.

A huge gathering of men went searching for Arthur. Nanny told me to wait at the house. It was not a time for interference by children. I did not listen to her. She was afraid of flowers. My parents were away, and Arthur was missing.

I waited until everyone left the library. Looking over my shoulder, I rushed toward the kitchen. My head peered around the door. It was empty. Carefully, I raced towards the woods. I realized foolish Cenred would have sent Arthur deep into he woods.

The cooling night air hit my face as I pulled my jumper tighter across my shoulders. Carefully, I stood over decaying leafs and pieces of moldy wood.

"Yuck," I scowled as I accidentally stepped into a puddle of muddy water. The water felt cool as mud spilled into my shoes.

Squirrels stared at me as I entered their territory; it smelled damp and woodsy. Twigs crushed under my weight as my eyes searched for my brother. I could not see Arthur's shiny blonde hair.

"Arthur," I yelled out for him, my voice echoed around as I stood in the center of the woods. My shoulders sagged as relief coursed through me. I could hear his footsteps behind me.

"Arthur Pendragon," I said forcedly as I spun on my heel.

I swallowed the rest of my words as I stared at a boy with dark hair and huge blue eyes about my age. He was skinny with big ears. A solemn smile curved his face. He had on strange costume like he was starring in a play. He wore a dark brown tunic with long golden tight pants.

I tried smiley to hide my fear. "My parents are over there."

'Morgana Pendragon, that's a mistruth. Your parents are in London."

How did he know that I wondered?

"I know most things Morgana Pendragon.

I arched eyebrow. "Where is my brother?"

The boy smiled. "A tree branch fell on his leg. It's not broken. He needs your help. He knew that you would come for him. He's waiting for you."

I looked over to a thicket of dense tightly tree. Carefully, I moved towards them in my search for Arthur.

I wanted to smack Arthur when he smiled at me with his two missing front teeth.

"It hurts, Morgana,"

I was surprised when the boy picked Arthur up like a sack of potatoes. He started moving towards the entrance of the woods. Are you coming, Morgana Pendragon?"

For once, I was lost for words. I followed the strange boy carrying my brother. Silently, he walked until we reached the manor. Gently, he placed Arthur on the stone steps.

"He will heal, Morgana Pendragon."

I closed my eyes in thanks. "How can we ever thank you."

"Next summer, pick flowers with me."

"What?"

"My time here is over, meet me next summer, and pick flowers with me. "

"Yes."

What a strange fellow.

The boy walked slowly towards the wood.

"What's your name?"

"You may call me Merlin."

My eyes grew large as the strange boy walked towards the woods and disappeared. I could no longer see him. He disappeared.

June 4th, 1954

Summer arrived quickly. Father and Mother were absent as usual. Chanel had reopened her store. Mother insisted on a visit to Paris. Father approved, as he believed the establishment accepted Ms. Chanel.

Morgause locked herself away in the world of Charles Dickens. Arthur would not go near the woods without an adult. He spent hours playing cricket with his new friend Lancelot. I collected words. I impressed my teacher with my impressive vocabulary and its usage, it was my escape. My parents argued a lot, their absence brought relief to our world. Their quarrels were loud and frequent, deep into the night, we could hear their voices. Arthur snuck from the nursery into Morgause or my bed. We huddled in our beds and mother cried into the night as father raged at her. His loud voice shook the foundation of our family.

We live peacefully, while they were gone. It was easy to be happy without painfully silent meals. We were terrified to say the wrong thing, and cause a violent argument to erupt between our parents. Our home was silent except for the sounds the summer brought in. It was easy to disappear from our parents' world. Hopefully, the Paris trip would soothe their souls. I don't count on my parents returning in a blissful state of mind or marriage.

I sat staring out of my window. The sun was hung like a red candy ball as it dipped into the horizon. My arms leaned forward when I saw something moving from the woods. Butterflies flew in my stomach as it moved closer and closer.

My eyes grew wide when I spotted Merlin, the strange boy from last summer, standing on the lawn behind my home.

He waved his hand to me. I shook my dark hair. His blue eyes gleamed and a huge smile formed on his face. I looked down deeply into his eyes.

I jumped when nanny appeared over my shoulder.

"What are you doing, Miss Morgana?'

My face felt hot from embarrassment. Quickly, I stared out of he window. He was gone.

June 5th 1954

I lay in my bed waiting for Merlin to arrive. Earlier, Nanny had arrived to check on me. I lay straight and still. My chest barley moving as her brown eyes scan for signs of activity. I snuggled in my bed as an old owl hooted in the background.

My green eyes turned the window as I kicked the covers from my bed. Hurriedly, I climbed from the bed. My feet flapped against the floor. The window pans felt cool under my palms. I saw him waiting for me. He smiled at me.

Shoving my feet into my shoes as I rushed out of my bedroom. I was as careful as a mouse, not to make a sound. My heart pounded as the door opened. The wet grass damped my feet as I walked toward him.

Frowning, I spun around searching in the darkness for the strange boy.

"I know that you are here, strange boy."

Fireflies bounced around me as I heard the boy lurking in the bushes.

"I'll open the gates, and release the hounds. Show yourself."

"The hounds are in the barn, Morgana Pendragon. Besides, I would disappear before you were half way there."

My hands dropped to my waist. "You lack manners. Appear, or I will scream. The whole household will be awaken."

"No… you won't. Your nanny will not appreciate finding her ward in the darkness. Would she? "

"Nanny is employed by my father. She would not dare raise her voice in anger."

"Then, scream."

My lips mumbled in frustration. He won my silly game. I hated losing to anyone.

"I'm going to bed."

The boy crawled from the bushes; rising from the ground, he shook leaves and twigs from his clothing.

"Hello, Morgana Pendragon."

His eyes were like twinkling stars.

"Hello, merlin."

Suddenly, he reached out and slapped my arm. "You're it."

Merlin ran into the cool summer night air.

"You cheat," I bellowed as I chased him around the grass.

June 6th, 1954

We sat on an old rotting hollow log next to the pond. Cranky old frogs jumped and played as we matched them.

"Do you have a question for me, Morgana Pendragon?"

Had he read my mind? How could he possibly know?

"Why are your ears pointy?'

"I'm an elf."

"You make shoes?"

"No… not that type of elf. My father is Balinor, King of Avalon. I'm a prince."

"Like Charles?"

"Yes, in a way."

"Why are you here?"

"Once every summer, my sisters hide an elf ring, and I must find it before the sky darkens. Its not a challenge. They a e rather predictable."

"You found Arthur."

"Yes and no."

"No?"

"Your despair called to me. Your fear needed consolation. So, I helped."

"Oh."

"Yes, I can only come in the summer."

"Your parents arrive home tomorrow."

"Oh."

"This is our last night, for one year, Morgana Pendragon."

"I understand Merlin of Avalon."

June 4th, 1955

I will miss Merlin's visit this year. My parents have decide to spend the summer in London. Perhaps, the nightlife and social events will keep the fighting at bay. I doubt it.

June 6th, 1956

Something was different as I prepared to sneak from my room to meet merlin. I took care to brush my hair, and I wore my best dress. Perhaps, I wanted to look special because I was thirteen. I should not run around in my nightclothes with a young man.

Part of me, was so nervous to meet him in the woods. I had not arrived for our meeting last summer. Perhaps, he had forgotten me.

I stood waiting by the pond, waiting for him to appear. Relief raced from my body as I felt his hand on my shoulder.

I turned to view him with tear drenched eyes. He had changed over the last two years. His face had grown more angular, and he towered over me. His clothes had changed. His fateful brown tunic was replaced with a silver shirt. He wore a light blue pants and a jacket.

"New clothes?"

"Isn't that my question?"

I smiled when I realized that he noticed that I had taken care for my arrival.

"My people are given new clothes when they reach a certain age. I am no longer a child. I have duties as my father's heir, future king of Avalon.

"Oh, my mother shops and shops… we have too much. New clothing is constants for us. Only the best. She tries to imitate Princess Grace of Monaco. They are both blonde American heiress, beautifully regal."

"Yes, she is lovely."

"You watch our world?"

"Of course, we are guardians of all that is good."

"Who guards the bad?"

"That is not for your ears."

"What is for my ears?"

"I have no words."

"Then, I will fill your ears, Merlin."

Words flowed over my lips. Patiently, Merlin sat like an old bear preparing to slumber for the winter. My lips spilled the horrible secrets of my home. The coldness and lack of joy. Tired hugs from my mother. Loud commands form my father. The freedom of school; tucked away from my parents and their worries. How my teachers were deeply impressed with my ability to use words. My secret dream of becoming a writer like the Bronte sisters or Jane Eyre.

I chatted deep into the night.

I awoke the next morning in my bed.

My eyes gleamed with I spouted muddy letters on my mirror.

"Until next year!"

June 3rdd, 1957

"I'm not doing it."

I stood facing Merlin in the moonlight. He was doing it. I had suffered greatly over the last year. First, James Dean died in 1956…I was in a deep sorrow over his lost. I wasn't allowed to listen to Elvis. Father caught me dancing, and he proclaimed that fine young ladies are elegant and regal. I have too much American blue blood in my veins. Worse of all, I was forced to take dancing lesson as a proper young lady of society. He promised to be my fateful friend for love, if I met him in the woods. Merlin will follow my commands.

"You promised to be my faithful friend."

"I said nothing about dancing."

I smoothed my damp hand against my face and wore my best saddle shoes on my feet to meet Merlin. Now, they were ruined. I made sure that my ponytail was absolute perfect. I even matched my ribbon to my blouse. He's dancing this night.

"Its quite simple, Merlin. It has steps. One, two, cha cha, cha."

Merlin shook his dark head. "You do it."

"By myself."

Merlin nodded firmly.

"Fine."

My skinny arms hung in the air where merlin was supposed to be. I stepped back on my right foot, and placed my weight on my right. My eyes nose scrutinized him when I realized that he laughed at me. A quick step with my right foot. Memory Morgana. Memories the steps. My left front moves to where the right one was. Step right step right. Move left foot to the right.

Step to left with my left foot and move right foot to the left. Side... step… step… step. Now, it the Cha… Cha.

My green eyes looked hopefully at Merlin. He arched an eyebrow.

"Ready?'

His eyes lowered. "I'm not much of a dancer."

"We'll do it together.

His finger felt cool as he took my hand. My other hand rested on his broad shoulder. My eyes smiled into his, flashing blue lights. Heat filled my hand as he slid an arm around my waist. We just stood there…

"We need to move."

Merlin moved me back and forth. Our bodies glided from side to side.

"No, you know how to Cha Cha."

"Quick learner."

I felt like an angel as he spun me around. My laughter filled the woods as we danced.

June 2nd, 1958

Merlin suggested a game of tag, for old times sakes. My pale hand slapped the back of his dark head; laughing I dashed into the woods. His footsteps echoed in my ears. Hurriedly, I went into the woods.

The tree bark felt rough against my back. Nothing, that creep didn't follow me. He waited for me to leave the woods to find him. He cheated. Okay, I cheated when I slapped his head.

I braced my shoulders and stomped towards the entrance of the forest.

"What," I shrieked as a giggling Merlin wrapped his arm around my waist. Butterflies emerged in my stomach. My feet lifted from the ground. I delivered a kick quick to his shin. I snickered as I raced away from him. Stumbling over branches, I skipped happily as the twigs broke behind. He chased me; he always came.

June 1, 1959

"What is it?"

Merlin stared at my offering with obvious distaste. Did he really have to fold his arms in defiance?

"Its cream soda."

His eyes roamed up and down the frosty glass.

"It looks like a wizard's brew. It bubbles and fizzes. It's an amber color. Not naturally found.

My green eyes rolled in disgust.

"It's soda, a sweet treat. It has dye. You drink it, and your stomach feels special. I thought… it would be a cool treat on a hot night."

"I plead for forgiveness. Forgive my rudeness."

"Then, drink."

His fingertips touched the underside of my hand. A rush of warmth chased along my palm. Shyly, I smiled at Merlin. I watched his thumb rubbed the condensation forming of the glass.

"This will haunt you forever… if I die."

He placed the rim of the glass to his pink lips; his throat bobbed as the sugary liquid coursed down his throat.

A fluffy mustache adorned Merlin's face when he removed the glass.

"It's pure bubbly nectar."

His smile did something strange to my heart. Giggling, I reached up to wipe to clean his face with my thumb. His body was so very warm. Gently, he thumb caressed his lips.

Shattering glass filled the air as Merlin wrapped me in his embrace. My eyelids fluttered close as he brushed his lips across mine. Parting my lips, his tongue slipped in my mouth as he applied more pressure. In that moment, everything changed under the moon standing next to a shimmering pond. I had my first kissed that tasted like cream soda.

A/N : the 60's and Morgana goes to Avalon


End file.
